


Snake, Raven, Weapon - Dusk Boys

by SuddenLight



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Blood and Gore, Fake AH Crew, Murder, Panic Attacks, Pre-Fake AH Crew, dusk boys - Freeform, golden boy - Freeform, super powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 20:04:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenLight/pseuds/SuddenLight
Summary: A snake with an entrancing golden body and a glittery black tongue. A raven with a sleek glimmering black body and sharp eyes. A weapon, shimmering from head to toe in another's poisonous, rich red blood.Three boys with three different tales.TW: Brief panic attack. Blood and Gore. Murder.





	Snake, Raven, Weapon - Dusk Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy <3

PLAYLIST:  
THISKIDSNOTALRIGHT (AWOLNATION)  
Gold (Imagine Dragons)  
Party Favor (Billie Eilish)  
My Blood (Twenty One Pilots)  
Let Go (Beau Young Prince  
Car Radio (Twenty One Pilots)  
I’m Not Famous (AJR)  
Doesn’t Matter - Rynx Remix (Gallant)  
Where’s My Love (SYML)  
I Get Overwhelmed (Dark Rooms)

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~DUSK BOYS

 

He is a snake, with an entrancing golden body and a glittery black tongue. Easing his trickster form into gullible hearts. Intriguing men and women of all countries, wealth, sexuality. Manipulation circulates through his veins as if it were blood, causing heartbreak wherever he set foot. His dramatics could be dialed up to twenty if you set the golden snake on the true path. Those who have had intimate content with the boy still remember his heart melting lips. Gold seeping from glimmering black lips, you’ll remember them too well. 

Often labeled as confrontational, snide, impulsive, materialistic, etcetera. Plenty more negative personality traits thrown towards the young man. Golden Boy appreciated these tags, as for anyone who was close could cry in laughter along with him.

Golden Boy would laugh when the news reporters brought up him being infamous. How gross, having those disgraceful qualities to bear the boy. The murder, prostitution, manipulation. All Gavin would do is laugh at his other part while watching footage of him seduce multiple rich men and women. Inside though, mentally, there was a toll.

The Dusk Boys weren’t the first to taste to his power, having it overworked and stricken into the ground by others. Those others never gave back, letting the Golden Boy run his perfect mouth to earn money. No wonder he left England. Practically a prostitute, was something Trevor told him with his nose wrinkled and eyes sympathetic. Alfredo rolled his eyes, going back to his FPS game. It was Gavin who had giggled over the comment. Trevor threw a dart and it smacked straight into the red target. Gavin believed him whole-heartedly.

Golden Boy and Gavin Free were the same people by the end of the day, but the blatant split was enough to make Gavin go mad.

And yet he found his footing once Alfredo wrapped his arms around him, placing a small kiss in his golden hair. Trevor switches their janky TV off, plopping down next to him in a hurry. Relax. Two of three being mentally stable was not enough for the Dusk Boys.

 

Gavin Free or the Golden Boy is a manipulator. He is to not be trusted.

\---

He is a raven, with a sleek glimmering black body and sharp eyes. He does not manipulate, but lies like his tongue wouldn’t shrivel up. His brain functions swiftly with the beat of wings following his every move. Intellect dripping from his body, pooling around him like blood. Glossy mounds of feathers hovering above his head, watching the slightest of movements.

Trevor would describe his work as precise, motivated. It’s dealing with freaks during deals, telling Golden Boy to deliver warm, rich words. 

Trevor was not needed elsewhere, finding himself nestling under blankets to be closer with his boys. Wandering a calm hand over one of their wounds as they slept. Whispering an ancient chant as black mist circles the air around them. Dark, throbbing bruises evaporating before him. Relief floods through him, exhaling roughly. His boys were okay, Barbara Dunkelman and her bloodied body were not going to appear. 

Though, sometimes, she would. 

Save them. Save. Them. SAVE THEM. SAVE THEM! 

Please no. No. NO PLEASE!

He tried to hold back the seething avalanche of tears, rubbing his face as if the red liquid was streaming into his mouth. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Trevor bent forward where he laid on the bed and pressing his palms to the clouds of blankets, he began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

Imagine a building, a large broken one. Now gunfire, and screams of terror breaching the midnight silence. Race inside, smell and witness the fire brewing against a beautiful blonde woman’s legs. Ropes trace around her body, sticking her in the chair for eternity. Five men versus one, the single man's ravens squawking madly. Run or fight appears as options. Save the girl, your girl, or flee. The options dissolve into a pale grey mist as the man with ravens runs. Barbara Dunkelman was dead, and Trevor Collins was at fault for this. 

He could feel it at the tips of his fingers, a chilling numbness spreading over his body like sleet. Every breath he took began to shallow into sharp, heavily desperate gasps for air. His lungs threatening to collapse, bringing his heart and brain along. An invisible hand clasps over his mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline piercing his heart, unloading in an instant. Trevor feels his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his own lungs. Sounds that were near feel far away, like he’s no longer in the body that lies paralyzed in bed. 

A visible hand gently tugs on his black t-shirt collar. Relaxing mumbles fill his ears, blaring of alarms toning down after a short time. Alfredo and Gavin were there, obviously exhausted from their recent mission. They snatched his hands up, holding them tight. His crying ends, turning into small whimpers as the boys help him curl under the sheets and slip into slumber. Relax, because you can’t have two of the Dusk Boys mentally stable without the third.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.

Trevor Collins or Treyco is a healer with dirty, lying ravens. He is to not be trusted.

\---

He is a weapon, shimmering from head to toe in another’s poisonous, rich red blood. 

The man would press his palms against the mangled flesh, once hearing you were supposed to stop bleeding by putting pressure on wounds. But, oh, there was so much blood - dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascaded across the woman's skin, right through his fingertips. A nasty swelling swarmed his stomach, guilt beating his insides with a boulder. 

He wasn’t good for anything else. Be useful, just for once in his goddamn life. Mother follows him, whispering cursed actions into his ear. He succumbs, performing the act senselessly, always getting away with it.

Only for so long would Alfredo remain calm, after each rant his inner countdown to his next explosion began. He needed to fight often, part of him craved the sensation. Alfredo never once did what he wanted, following every word his leaders said. He will please. Alfredo wants to live after all.

Alfredo would run a hand through his raven black hair, eyes drifting over Gavin and Trevor. He didn’t know where he stood with them, trying to copy their movements and breathing because any other way would be a disgrace. Should he go out into the inky blackness and watch for attackers? So he did one night, picking himself up and watching cars enter and exit the neighborhood.

Someone did attack after two weeks of him watching over the boys. Attacking with messy movements, they didn't last. His shining knife slipping across their throat. Blood coated Alfredo's fingers like caramel over an apple, only brilliant red instead of soft golden browns. His eyes watched each finger move, entranced by the new color of his skin. It felt no different from wet mud but it wasn't. He knew he should feel repulsed, eager to wash it off but instead, he felt a laughter building in his belly, a joy as he'd never known. The killing was Alfredo’s gig. That is what the other two Dusk Boy’s learn in the coming morning, trying to hurriedly clean their screwed up boy.

“How long have you been watching out for us ‘Fredo?” Alfredo stuck up three fingers for Gavin, staring forward absently as Trevor ran a hand through his fucked up hair. The blood had washed away, but the boys were sitting around the tub with a list of questions. “Days?” Alfredo shook his head. “Weeks?” He nods and the two quit speaking for a minute.

“Why’d you do it? Sit out there and wait for something bad.” Trevor wants something deep.

Alfredo looks over to Gavin who had sat criss-cross to his right. Trevor was behind him, unknown emotions being masked. He’s known them for officially two years. It’ll be okay. His words come slowly, leaving trails behind them. “What else could I do for you?” A brief pause. “If I can’t negotiate or manipulate... I might as well pull my weight.” Trevor’s fingers retract from his hair, settling on the tub. There’s a fit of strange anger swelling inside of him. “I don’t even have a fuckin’ power!” Alfredo’s voice cracks, water lining his throat and making it all itchy. Screw the universe man. Screw it all.

“Alfredo, you don’t need any super cool powers or some bullshit. There’s no need to protect us day and night when your own health begins deteriorating. We love you, you don’t need to prove shit to us alright?” Trevor patted his head, smoothing down the places where his fingers twirled and spiked his hair. Gavin smiles, warm and homely. Gentle boys...

“Get dressed and head to bed, no more night shifts for you.” The man dripping of gold picks himself up, pointing to the change of clothes on the dirty bathroom counter. The clock beside the clothing flashed on and off. He makes out six forty-five AM before it just turns off. He never found out what happened to the person’s body.

Alfredo Diaz or The Sauce has no power. He is to not be trusted, with or without an ability.

\---

Their heists have been going well, bringing in good money for an apartment they’ve been saving for. No more ugly wallpaper, old TV’s, creaky beds. The boys could have a better life, especially when getting pets is a big opportunity none of the Dusk’s want to pass up.

Then there’s major gunfire and screaming. Gavin called in Trevor, shouting about all the noise down Alfredo’s section. The bank was flooding with police officers, more and more arriving with equally shitty aim. Trevor does his best to patch through to the missing man while he travels down a hallway of the wreckage.

“Sauce? You’ve gotta reply soon or Golden Boy will have a heart attack.” Pure silence from Alfredo’s end. Police sirens, ear-splitting shouts, groans from downed men. Two sharp gunshots. Fuck.

Alfredo stood there, on the opposite side of the bank with a hand cupping his stomach. A guard lay on her back, shot straight through the head. Her gun lay at her hip, recovering from the recent shooting.

“C’MON ‘FREDO! We need you!” Trevor’s voice was breaking under pressure. Alfredo’s bloody hand leaves his stomach, trembling in pain as he unmutes himself on the hearing device. “Trev- Trevor. Holy fuck there’s so much red.” He giggles, placing three fingers on his gunshot wound. Alfredo removes his red jacket, pressing it firmly to the wound. Trevor was frantically speaking with Gavin, something about fakes and helping. His body trembles as he takes a seat, a bag stuffed full of money drenched in blood. Absolutely disgusting he thought as harsh footsteps sound from the north hall.

\---

Gavin relaxes into the chair next to Alfredo’s medical bed, wrapping their hands together for comfort. The injured man had his eyes shut, sometimes briefly twitching and mumbling worrisome words. 

“So ‘Fredo… we’ve got someone who wants to take the Dusk Boys in. The Fakes of all people- it’s absolutely ace! Just need you to be up to date in health for the final decision.” His joy wasn’t all that beautiful, instead, it was a lie. Alfredo was lying in a medical bed, in the main Fake penthouse, with the Vagabond and Rimmy Tim as guards. All of this was too risky, nothing to be glad over. 

Ramsey and Pattillo pulled two contacts to change the police's anger from the bank to a burning building. Thanks to Fake Chop and Fake Pine for that. That's what Alfredo knew.

Gavin continues, pulls his golden shades off his nose and sets them on the table. “Ramsey says we have promise, we got big things ahead of us and he wants to help. You especially ‘Fredo. Allegedly he’s got a guy on the sidelines rooting for you.”

An infamous gang leader being intrigued by their small crew’s work. 

His eyes don't open as he scoffs. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“‘Fredo- they saved your life. The least you could do is reply with a thank you.” And Trevor reappeared in his life. Not screaming his name in absolute fear. That fact was comforting.

Alfredo smiles, a little drowsy from the recent news. “What’s the first thing we’ll do for them?”

Trevor snorts, Gavin shakes his head. “Not we. You’ll be taking a seat on the bench for now.”

His eyes open, a fake betrayed look on his face. "Oh come on! You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!”

**Author's Note:**

> I finally went ahead and posted! It's about time I get another work out there. 
> 
> December 2nd, 11:39 PM - February 3, 1:59 PM
> 
> Leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
